


Reunited (Queen of Shadows, Chapter 28, Rowan PoV)

by aBOOKISHfreak



Series: Throne of Glass One-Shots [2]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Belongs to Sarah J. Maas, Chapter 28, F/M, Queen Of Shadows, Retelling, different POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBOOKISHfreak/pseuds/aBOOKISHfreak
Summary: The QoS Rowaelin reunion, but in Rowan's point of view.
Series: Throne of Glass One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797289
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Reunited (Queen of Shadows, Chapter 28, Rowan PoV)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a one-shot about the QoS reunion scene, but in Rowan's point of view. I own nothing here, all the characters, plot, and dialogue belong to Sarah J Maas.

Rifthold smelled horrible. That was Rowan’s first conclusion when he arrived at the city. He was surprised at the state of the capital. While large and busy, even at night, it was filthy and stank of rubbish, sweat, and human waste. Beggars and vagrants ran amiss, pleading for ‘just one copper’ and stealing food from wealthier people. The stench was most likely caused by the pollution and lack of a proper sewer system, especially in the slums.  
Wandering the streets, his hood pulled up closely to conceal his Fae heritage, The prince was, for the first time, thankful for his lack of magic. He’d spent the majority of the journey curled up in the bottom of the ship, sick from the sensations and being completely vulnerable for the first time in his life. His senses were muffled, and Rowan felt completely lost without the wind sharing it’s secrets with him. Now, though, Rowan was grateful that he couldn’t smell Rifthold with his magic, even though his senses were far better than a human’s.  
Rowan had arrived in the city in late afternoon. Despite how desperately he longed to scour the streets in search of his queen, he knew it would not be wise to begin now. A strange, heavily armed male traveling through all the streets in the slums would raise more questions than he was willing to risk. The prince occupied his time until the night, when he could find Aelin and wherever she was staying, he wandered the streets, exploring the shops and generally avoiding all contact with people.  
As he walked, Rowan thought of the princess. How was she faring? What had she done about the King and Hamel? Had she met up with her cousin and the Captain? Suddenly, a surge of fear and panic swept through him. Had something happened to her? He should never have let her come here without him.  
Despite his newfound panic over her condition, Rowan was excited to see Aelin, see the city that she had spent over half of her life in. Even though he was looking forward to seeing the city with her, he was almost afraid to see her again. What would she say to him? Would she be upset that he had come here without her permission? Rowan shook his head fiercely, startling a flock of young women. Since when did he care so much about what Aelin thought of him? There were much more pressing matters at hand, namingly, Lorcan. That was why he’d come in the first place, to keep Lorcan away from her. The prince needed to stay focused, he couldn’t afford a distraction now.  
Still, Rowan had always cared about her, hadn’t he? The feeling was so natural, he and the princess just went together. They worked well together, and he now considered her his friend. He hadn’t realized how much he needed her, how much she had helped him, until she was gone. Until he was returning to the fortress without her, going through life there without having to train her, until he was sleeping in the same bed they had shared not long ago, and found himself reaching across the bed for the princess that was an ocean away. Rowan mentally, chided himself. It would do him no good to think of her now.  
Night eventually fell, and Rowan started to search. The first step was to find the slums. Well, that was easy. Just follow the smell. As the prince stalked around the poor part of the city, patience running thin, he made sure to walk heavily and cover his head with his hood. If the king discovered there was a Fae warrior in his city, Rowan would be in trouble. So would Aelin.  
This was taking far too long. Perhaps he should have started looking earlier. The prince wandered the streets and alleys, scouring them for any scent of her. Nothing. He wanted to give up, wished this could be easier, that his magic could help him. But he was alone. Rowan knew he had to find his queen, that he couldn't stop now.  
He walked past a closed vendor’s shop, it was far too late for them to be open. He looked at the sign, then quickly did a double-take. A bakery. What better place to try to find Aelin? Creeping over cautiously, he inhaled. And then slowly smiled.  
There it was. That intoxicating scent of crackling embers, lemon verbena, and jasmine. There was something new to it as well, there were two people with her. It was fresh, too. Following the scent trail, clear against the night mist, he stalked into an alley. It got stronger, she was out right now, near him, moving slowly. Rowan felt his heart start to beat faster as he neared his queen. As he stepped out of the thin, narrow alley, through the fog, he saw her.  
Barely paying any attention to the two figures flanking her, one large and musculare, a man, one lean and lightly built, a human woman. He assumed the golden male was her cousin, Aedion, but had no idea who the woman could be. He stood still, paralyzed, for a moment. Here, she was here. He’d found his queen at last. Rowan watched as she took a staggering step forward, as a small whimper slipped out of her.  
Too shocked to do anything more than look at her, drink her in, Rowan stood firm, bracing himself as she took off down the alley, racing towards him. Aelin hit him with such force that anyone other than a Fae would have gone stumbling back. Too thankful that she was here, in his arms, the prince did not object to her wish for contact as she latched onto him, instead bringing his arms firmly up around her, holding her close. That delicious scent, the very essence of her was wrapped all around him, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her sweet smell.  
Around the overwhelming happiness in his chest, the ringing in his ears, he vaguely registered her sobbing and laughing into his shoulder, as her companions said something.  
“How did you get here? How did you find me?” She drew back slightly, still clinging to him harshly, and studied his face. Despite his usual policy on physical touch, Rowan wasn’t quite ready to let go of her. Maybe it was the blood oath, maybe it was the carranam bond, or maybe something completely different, but the price felt an overwhelming sense of relief at being back with his queen, ready to protect her for the horrors of this monstrous country.  
“You made it clear my kind wouldn’t be welcome on your continent. So I stowed away on a ship. You’d mentioned a home in the slums, so when I arrived this evening, I wandered until I picked up your scent.” He barely heard his own voice as he told her the story, his gaze gliding softly over her. Aelin. She was safe. Looking into her eyes, he noticed that there was something on her mind, something that she needed to share with him. “You have a lot to tell me,” He said gently. “But you’re not hurt. You’re safe?”  
A nod. Aelin buried her face in his chest, and he felt a warmth come over his heart. “I thought I gave you an order to stay in Wendlyn.”  
“I had my reasons, best spoken somewhere secure.” Lorcan. Yes, his former commander was definitely a problem. The real reason he had come to Adarlan, aside from the need to see his queen, was to protect her from the Demi-Fae male. “Your friends at the fortress say hello, by the way. I think they miss having an extra scullery maid. Especially Luca - especially in the mornings.”  
Rowan felt her chuckle against him, squeezing him. The prince felt soft tears against his neck, and tried to push her back, read her face. She held onto him, though, refusing to let go.  
“I’m crying, because you smell so rutting bad my eyes are watering.” He let out a thundering laugh. Gods he’d missed her. Missed her wit and quick humor. Missed that round of insults, the quick banter they shared.  
“Bathing isn’t an option for a stowaway.” Pulling away, no matter how much his instincts screamed for him to pull her close and never let go, he flicked her nose, to which she shoved him. Looking towards her companions, he frowned. “Are you just going to make them stand there all night?”  
She slung an arm around his waist as she said, “Since when are you a stickler for manners?” He dropped a casual arm around her shoulders, not willing to let go yet. His gaze met the blonde man’s. Oh, Rowan knew who this was. It was her cousin, Aedion Ashryver. The Wolf of the North. There was something… familiar about him. When he got closer. He stiffened.  
Gavriel. This male smelled distinctly of his companion, the Lion of Doranelle. A… brother? Relative? No. Son. This was Gavriel’s son. He blinked, the only surprise the prince would show. A sharp pressure in his side jolted Rowan out of his thoughts. He hissed, and pinched Aelin’s shoulder in retaliation. “Let’s get inside,” she said.  
“I’ll see you later,” said the dark haired rebel. He didn’t know who she was, nor did he really care. He was here, with his queen, and they were both safe.  
The Ashryver, the other side to her golden coin, led them back to a warehouse. It was large, with two stories and an exposed roof. His gaze still checking for enemies, valg, whatever vermin might be lurking here, he stepped aside to let her go ahead of him. When they arrived in the room, Aelin immediately commanded attention.  
“Aedion, meet Rowan. Rowan, meet Aedion. His Highness needs a bath or I’ll vomit if I have to sit next to him for more than a minute.” She dragged him into a full, luxurious room before shutting the door roughly behind them.  
\--------------------  
Rowan stood in the center of the bedroom, taking it in. It was… a lot. Aelin certainly had a flair for the dramatic, he’d give her that. The room was large and extravagant, decorated in greens and silver. The colors of Terrasen, he noted. Then, his gaze shifted to her. “ Take off your hood,” he said. Her arms crossed at his soft growl.  
“You Show me yours and I’ll show you mine, Prince.”  
Rowan rolled his eyes. “From tears to sass in a few minutes. I’m glad the month apart hasn’t dimmed your usual good spirits,” he scoffed, yanking back his hood. He saw her start, and immediately crossed the room. When she pulled back her hair, he saw it had been dyed a muddy red-brown, the strands just as short as when he’d last seen them.  
“Your hair! You cut it all off!”  
And indeed he had. Just before he left. “SInce you seemed to think that we would be doing a good amount of fighting here, shorter hair is more useful. Though I can’t say your hair might be considered the same. You might as well have dyed it blue.”  
“Hush. Your hair was so pretty. I was hoping you’d let me braid it one day. I suppose I’ll have to buy a pony instead.” Rowan was caught between laughing and snarling. Gods, this woman was so infuriating. He didn’t know why he cared for her, yet it felt so right. Noticing his reaction, her head tilted. “When you shift, will your hawk form be plucked, then?”  
Choosing to ignore her last comment, the prince turned his attention to her room. “You weren’t lying about your taste for luxury.” It was true. Everything was ornate and beautiful, very ostentatious. It screamed Aelin.  
“Not all of us enjoy living in warrior-squalor,” she said. Aelin reached out, taking his hand in hers. As a reflex, his fingers closed around hers. He noticed her studying his face, but couldn't bring himself to care. The contact felt so right. She ignited him, this princess constantly surprised him.  
Suddenly, she stood up, pulling him with her. “I meant it about the bath,” she said, making quick work of the taps and faucets, only stopping to light some candles. “You stink.”  
Rowan watched her bend down to get a towel. No matter how much he enjoyed being near her again, there were important things to discuss. “Tell me everything.”  
She continued grabbing things from the cabinet, dumping them in the bath. The prince had never seen any of them before, and frankly, they seemed quite useless. “I will, when you’re soaking in the bath and don’t smell like a vagrant.”  
He smirked. “If memory serves, you smelled even worse when we first met. And I didn’t shove you into the nearest trough in Varese.” Her eyes locked onto his, Aelin’s expression transforming into a glare.  
“Funny.”  
“You made my eyes water for the entire damn journey to Mistward.”  
“Just get in.” Rowan chuckled, then obeyed, beginning to peel off his clothes as she stalked out of the room.  
Shit. This woman would be the death of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Come visit me on Tumblr @abookishfreak


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